I must admit that it is a little gory here and there, but please enjoy~!
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Winry's eyes filled with tears as he walked up to the house. Al was shivering despite the fact that his body was a large suit of armour, and though no tears streamed down his face, the odd sob escaped from the metal. In his arms, he carried Edward, his brother, whose eyes were closed and whose face was contorted in pain. She'd witnessed a scene much like this years ago, when the Elric brothers had tried to revive their mother, though today it was thankfully less bloody.
She recalled Al’s panicked call a few minutes before, which had stated: “Ed’s hurt, we’re coming,” and then clicked off, the line dead.
"Colonel Mustang told us to go home," Al said between shuddering sobs when he reached the porch. "He thought we needed a break, but..." Winry didn't open her mouth, as she was afraid that doing so would cause her to burst into tears and she wouldn't even be able to stay on her feet once she started crying. Instead, she ushered Al inside, and Granny Pinako led the way to boys' normal room for when they stayed at the house so Winry could fix Ed's automail. But this time was so much different.
After they'd lain Ed down on the bed, put a cool wash cloth on his burning forehead and Pinako had calmed Al from hysterical to mildly calm, Winry pulled up a chair and glared him right in the eye.
"What happened?" she demanded.
"Someone tried to rob the train out here," Al replied. "Ed managed to stop them, but one of them was threatening a couple of kids, so he went to help. They didn't even hesitate - next thing I know, there's blood everywhere, and the end of a smoking gun pointed at the place the Ed used to be before he lost consciousness. I hit him for what he did to brother." Al started sobbing again. Empty armour or not, the sound still broke Winry's heart.
"Why didn't you go the hospital?" Pinako asked.
"I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry," Al added.
"That's alright, it's better you brought him here anyways. There's been quite a few cases that result from robberies and the hospital has their hands full. He wouldn't get the care he needs." The old woman puffed some smoke from her pipe, the heavy scent filling the air. Winry stood up and asked "so the wound is infected?"
"Yes," Pinako replied, trudging on her little legs towards the room where they held the automail surgeries. She dug through the supplies, bringing out a bottle of strong antiseptic, bandages and tweezers. "Help me," she ordered. Winry and Al both leaped forward, eager to ease Ed's suffering.
They crossed the hall and went into the room where Ed rested, who was sweating and trying not to moan. Granny Pinako removed his coat carefully and cut through his shirt, revealing the bullet wound, the skin around it red and puffy. Winry swallowed, tasting bile in the back of her throat. I don't know if I can watch this, she thought in horror. I just can't stand to see him in so much pain.
"Now Ed, I'm going to take the bullet out," Granny said softly, brushing some hair off his forehead. He looked at her, breathing hard, then winced and turned away, gritting his teeth to cut off another groan.
"Winry, hold him down, please," she snapped. Winry put a hand on his uninjured shoulder and another on his chest, pressing him into the mattress. He swung his head around and stared at her in disbelief, as Pinako leaned over, tweezers in hand. Winry turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to see the metal go into his shoulder, in search of the bullet. She tried her best to ignore his screams.
"Okay," came a murmur. She looked down at Ed, whose hand clutched his shoulder desperately, the bloodied bullet hovering just above his white-knuckled hand. "Winry, clean and bandage the wound. Put the wash cloth in cold water and put it on his forehead. Al, come on."
Winry took her time with the bandages. She went for a new cloth every minute, but she started to go after longer intervals, as Ed began to not need them as quickly. His breathing slowed, as did his pulse, until finally, mercifully, he could look straight at Winry with only a hint of fever clouding his eyes.
"Ed, you idiot," she sobbed, tears brimming over. He sat up, wincing as he did so, and put an arm - a human arm with an injured shoulder - around her. She stopped crying momentarily, surprised by his strength, which gave him enough time to say "I'm sorry. I've worried you, haven't I?"
"Damn right, you have," she growled, wiping her face.
He pulled away, and asked softly, "have I ever told you that you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen?"
"That's the fever talking," she replied.
"Mmm," he murmured thoughtfully. "Then this is the fever's fault, too." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. She blushed a brilliant shade of red, at which he laughed.
"Ed!" Winry cried, taking her trusty wrench from its place on her belt and holding it high. But he was faster than her, and kissed her again. Her hand dropped to her side.
"Definitely the fever," she gasped when he pulled away. He smiled, shaking his head. "Yes, I'd never be brave enough to do that any other time," he said, lying back.
He was asleep almost immediately, like a child, and with a last pat on his arm, Winry slipped out of the room as quietly as she could. She paused at the doorway, though, and looked back at the sleeping form, now so relaxed and calm.
Some good had most certainly come out of this panic.
